Always, and Forever
by JacksAreWild
Summary: Will Alistair lose the only person who matters to him, or will he gain so much more?
1. Prologue

**Daniella**

I am in my room packing up my belongings when Alistair comes in.

"There you are! I was looking for you after the Landsmeet," I say. "Where did you go?"

"I've been thinking…" he begins. "We need to talk."

"Okay," I reply warily.

"I'm not reconsidering my decision to become king," he continues on. "I…I believe I can do it, because **you **believe I can. You have always believed in me." His voice drops to a whisper. "That is why this is so hard."

My blood feels like ice in my veins as I wait for him to continue.

"My being king, that raises some questions about us."

"What kind of questions?" I ask, puzzled.

"First, I know that you have never desired to have a 'common' life. Marriage and children are not part of your agenda."

"Yes, but…" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"And even if they were, there is the fact that both you and I are Grey Wardens. As king, I'll be obligated to have a child. But both of us have tainted blood. The chances that we could have a child together…well, I've never heard of it happening."

"An heir?" I bark out on a mirthless laugh. "That is what you are worried about…providing an heir to the throne?"

"I have to face up to my duties as king."

"Alistair…"

"I can't run away from it anymore."

"Alistair!" My head is reeling. It is true that I never desired to be a traditional wife and mother, and I know that Alistair is aware of this. But I also thought that he loved me in spite of that. Could I have been so wrong?

_As we walk back in to camp, Alistair pulls me aside. "Here, look at this. Do you know what this is?"_

_I stare at the flower in his extended hand. Fearing a joke at my expense, I say, "Your new weapon of choice?"_

_He laughs. "Yes, that's right! Watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements! Feel my thorns, darkspawn!" He mimics an evil laugh. "I will overpower you with my rosy scent!"_

_I laugh. "Sounds like as good a plan as any, right now." I look at him questioningly. "Is this for me?"_

_He turns more serious. "I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?' I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So, I've had it ever since." _

_He pauses, looks at his feet. "I thought that I might give it to you, actually. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you. I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this…darkness."_

_My heart is galloping wildly in my chest, but my voice sounds normal to my ears. Mostly._

"_So, are we married now?"_

_He laughs. "You won't land me that easily, woman! I know I'm quite the prize, after all," he declares, in a tone that indicates he clearly thinks otherwise. "But…if we could move right on past this awkward, embarrassing stage, and get right to the steamy bits, I'd appreciate it."_

"_Sounds good," I reply, matter-of-factly. "Off with the armor, then!"_

_My fellow warden blushes to the tips of his ears. "Bluff called. Damn! You saw right through me." He chuckles nervously, backing away. "I'll just be standing over here. You know, until the blushing stops. Okay, then."_

"I love you more than you know," he says, as if reading my thoughts. "More than I ever thought possible. But I have to face what this means for us…for our future."

"Are you sure this is the right time to be having this conversation?" I ask him. I concentrate on keeping my hands at my side and quell the impulse to shake him until his teeth rattle around in his empty head. If ending our relationship is his first kingly decree, then maybe I was wrong about his ability to rule, after all. "We don't even know if either of us will be alive after tomorrow."

"If I don't end it now, I fear I never will be able to. I'm sorry, but I have no choice."

I consider arguing, but I recognize the determined expression on his face. There's no sense in debating this any further right now. I know his sense of duty is driving his decision, and that he feels miserable about it. I also know that despite his proclamations, this doesn't really change anything. I love him; he loves me. With the archdemon still remaining to be slain and a blight to be stopped, I can't really consider much beyond that at the moment.

"Fine," I relent on a sigh. "Should we both manage to avoid becoming dragon fodder tomorrow, I shall flee stealthily in to the night and you shall never have to see me again. Happy?"

Before he can reply, I hear someone clear their throat from the doorway. "Yes, about that…"

I turn to see Riordan standing there, looking uncomfortable. "I am sorry to interrupt."

"Not at all," I tell him. "We were **quite** finished." I give Alistair a glare. "What can we do for you?"

"I wanted to speak to the two of you, alone." He enters the room. "What do you two know about how an archdemon is slain?"

"You mean there's more to it than just chopping off its head?" Alistair deadpans.

"Have you ever wondered why the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat the darkspawn?" Riordan asks us.

"I always assumed it had something to do with the taint in us," I reply.

"That is exactly what it involves. When the archdemon dies, its essence passes through the taint to the nearest darkspawn and it's born anew in that body. But if the archdemon is slain by a Grey Warden, then its essence travels in to the Grey Warden instead."

Alistair and I exchange wary glances. "Well, that doesn't sound very healthy," he quips.

"The essence of the archdemon is destroyed, and so is the Grey Warden," Riordan informs us solemnly.

"Meaning…the warden who kills the archdemon…dies?" Alistair asks softly. There's no hint of amusement in his voice now.

"Yes. It is the only way."

"Of course it is!" I snort. "You didn't really think it was going to be as easy as uniting an entire country, defeating a horde of darkspawn, and slaying an archdemon dragon, now did you?" I say, as much to myself as to either of them.

Riordan gives me a quizzical look, but continues. "If possible, the final blow should be mine to make. I am the eldest, and the taint will not spare me much longer. But if I fail, the deed falls to one of you. The blight must be stopped now."

"Great. Fantastic. Thank you for that information. And if you have no more cheery news to pass along, I think I will retire for the night." I head for the door, but can't resist one parting shot. "Well, look at it this way, Your Highness," I say to Alistair, who still appears stunned by this revelation. "At least you won't have to worry about the inconvenience of my presence after tomorrow."

It's a low blow, and I know it, but I'm too exhausted and disheartened to care. I hear him plead, "Daniella," as I walk out the door, but I don't turn around or stop.

I cross the hall and enter my chamber to find Morrigan standing there. "You should not be here, Morrigan. I am in no mood for verbal jousting this evening," I tell her as I unbuckle my breastplate.

"I have a plan," she tells me. "A way out. A loop in your hole."

I sigh. "What are you talking about?"

"I know what happens when the archdemon dies," she tells me. I am surprised by this, but I keep my face a neutral mask. "I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice could be you."

"Your concern for my well-being is touching. Truly."

She scoffs. "It is not concern that brings me here. But I do offer a way out for you and your fellow wardens." When I say nothing, she continues. "A ritual…performed on the eve of battle."

"What kind of ritual?" I ask, skeptically.

"Convince Alistair to lay with me, here tonight, and from this joining, a child will be conceived."

"What?" I laugh. "Are you serious? Have you gone mad?"

"Hear me out!" she demands crossly. "The child will have the taint. When the archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child rather than one of you. At this early stage, the child will not be harmed. The archdemon is destroyed, and no Grey Warden must die in the process."

"And why would you do this, hmm? What's in it for you?"

"I conceive a child…one that will be born with the soul of an Old God. You allow me to walk away and promise never to seek me out. I will be free to raise the child as I see fit."

"Morrigan…" I sink wearily onto the bed. "This plan has so many holes in it; I don't even know where to begin. What makes you think Alistair would **ever **agree to such a thing?"

Morrigan perches on the edge of the bed, beside me. "He loves you," she states simply. "Do you not think he would do this to save your life?"

"Ah, I see your information is not entirely current. Our future king ended his relationship with me earlier this evening."

"But you could still convince him," she tells me. "I've seen the way you two look at each other. It is sickening. Or did that all disappear in an instant?"

I ignore that last bit. "Convince him to have sex with you in order to father a child he will never see? I doubt it. But it doesn't matter, because I would never ask him to do such a thing."

"Why not?" she demands, angrily. "You just said he ended things with you. Why do you care? Use him to spare your life!"

"I don't expect you to understand." I speak softly, exhaustion cushioning my every word. "I would give my life for Alistair. He would do the same for me. It has been that way since this thing began." I look at her. "You should know. You were there from the start." She has the decency to look away from my gaze.

"Now I think perhaps there is a reason the two of us survived. It is Alistair's destiny to be King of Ferelden and unite the country once the blight is over. It is mine to slay the demon and sacrifice my life." I shrug. "To tell you the truth, I do not mind overly much. I look forward to seeing my family again…mother and father, and Fergus." My brother's name coaxes a smile from my lips. "I will die as a Grey Warden, in battle. It is an honorable way to go."

Morrigan stands. "I will not pretend to comprehend your fascination with honor and duty…either of you," she proclaims. "But I can see you will not change your mind."

"No," I confirm. "I will not."

"Then there is no reason for me to remain here any longer." She walks to the door, but pauses on the threshold. "I wish you luck tomorrow, for all of our sakes," she says, and then, she is gone.

**Alistair**

I watch helplessly as Daniella storms from the room. "She's a little angry with me," I explain.

"Yes, I gathered as much," Riordan replies with a raised eyebrow. "I am glad it is you that has earned her wrath and not I."

"Thanks," I mutter.

He claps me on the shoulder. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow will be upon us before you know it."

As I enter the hallway, I see Morrigan in Dani's room. I linger in the shadows, overhearing enough of the conversation to gather the pertinent details. I am waiting around the corner when Morrigan strides by and grab her arm. "It is just I!" I hiss as she reaches for her staff.

She squints at me in the gloom. "What are you doing, you buffoon?" she demands.

"Get in here!" I drag her to my chamber by the arm I am still gripping. She shakes my hand loose as soon as we are over the threshold, and I close the door. We stand glaring at each other for a moment.

"Well?" she insists.

"I heard you talking to Daniella," I tell her. My mind is still reeling from what I heard. I'm not exactly sure what I hope to accomplish with this encounter.

"Yes?" Her reply is suspicious.

"Is this true? That your ritual would mean that…neither of us would die?"

"Don't tell me…noble Alistair is afraid to die? Unwilling to give his life for his love?" she mocks.

"No! That is not it at all!" I stride angrily around the room. "I heard what she said to you. I know she intends to take the final blow for herself! I will not allow her to do it!'

Suddenly, some of the force goes out of me. I lean against the bed post. "But she has always been quicker than me, in mind and in body. I do not have confidence that I can finish it before she does." My voice drops to a whisper. "I cannot take that chance."

Morrigan shakes her head. "You two are pathetic. So, what are you saying? You want to perform the ritual with me?"

I do not answer at once. I cannot believe I am contemplating this. Being…intimate with Morrigan? Creating some kind of demon child? My mind and body rebel at the notion. But then, I keep seeing images of Daniella…**my** Daniella…lying broken and unmoving beside the archdemon's carcass and Maker help me, but it is more than I can bear.

"Tell me about this child," I whisper. "Will it be…evil?"

"Evil?" she laughs. "What does that even mean?" When I just stare, she relents. "It will not be darkspawn, if that is what you are asking."

"And you do not plan to use it against me in the future?"

She scoffs. "I do not care anything about politics. Rest assured that if you do this, you will never see me or the child again."

"All right," I say, and wait for lightening to strike me down, but none comes. "I will do it."

She stares for a moment as if expecting me to change my mind, and then she shrugs. "As you wish."

"So, what do we do now?"

She again gives her mocking laugh as she reaches for me. "Come now, Templar boy, I know you know what to do. I could hear you quite well all those nights in camp when you were doing this very thing with your fellow warden."

_The firelight casts shadows on the outside of the tent. Inside, we lie naked, half-covered by the bedroll, Dani's back pressed against my front. My callused fingers lie lightly on top of the impossibly soft curve of her hip. _

_We spend most nights this way now…together…since we've given up our attempts at being discreet. We were the only ones who believed our ruse, anyway. _

_I lean over and kiss her collarbone, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair. "Maker's breath, but you are beautiful." I can't see her smile, but I sense it._

_We are getting better at the lovemaking. In the beginning, there was a lot of awkward fumbling and hesitant exploring. But I am learning how to kiss, where to touch, and when to tease in order to make my lover's breath catch and her pulse quicken. In this new journey, my desire to please has served me well. Dani has become quite proficient, as well. In this, as in all things, my Warden is a quick study, especially when she has enthusiasm for the subject at hand._

"_I am a lucky man," I say, to myself, but also aloud._

_In a voice just this side of wakefulness, she says, "I love you, Alistair."_

"_And I love you, too. Always, and forever."_

"_Always, and forever," she affirms, as she drifts off to sleep._

I am yanked from my reverie by the sight of Morrigan's hand reaching for my shirt. But then I think, "Yes! I will just think of Dani, and pretend that it is she and I here, and not horrible, wretched Morrigan." But even with my eyes squeezed tightly shut, as soon as Morrigan's fingers touch my skin, my treacherous nerve endings send thousands of the same signals to my brain; "Not her! Not her! NOT HER!" Not Dani's touch, which is always so loving and gentle, unlike Morrigan's rough and demanding one. Not Dani's lips, which always taste so sweet compared to Morrigan's wicked ones. And not my love's kind and noble heart, beating in time with mine, rather than Morrigan's evil one.

But even as I compile my list of miseries, my traitorous body is responding to Morrigan's touch. Then she is on top of me, and although this is completely different than anything I have experienced before…not physical intimacy as a gift, but as a punishment…at least it is over quickly. She rolls off of me immediately, thank the Maker.

"See, now, was that so bad?" she asks as she rises from the bed, and I shudder. She laughs as she pulls on her robes.

"You had better be telling the truth, Morrigan, or so help me…" I say as I raise myself up on one elbow.

"Now, now, there is no need for threats. Do you think this was all a trick to get you in to bed?" She laughs again. "Your lives have been spared, I assure you."

I flop back on to the bed. "Then go." I sound defeated, even to myself. "I do not want to see you ever again."

I sense a moment's hesitation, but then I hear the door open and shut. I fear that the memories of this encounter will keep me from sleep for all of my days, but instead, I am slumbering within moments.


	2. Friends, Revisited

**Daniella**

I sit at my desk at Vigil's Keep. The afternoon sun streaming through the window is warming my skin, and the sound of the new recruits training in the courtyard is like a soothing lullaby to my ears. Ruff is lying on his back in the sunlight, paws in the air, occasionally giving a snuffling doggy snore. I am trying not to nod off, as well, but ever since the battle at Fort Drakon, I do not have the same energy that I used to. I suppose it is to be expected.

I suppose another reason for my lethargy is that I am content. I am starting to get used to life after the blight. No more being constantly on guard for darkspawn. No more sleeping on the hard ground, bathing in ponds and rivers. No more eating Alistair's mystery stew.

My contented feeling fades a bit as I push his name from my mind. We have not spoken since the Coronation Ceremony in Denerim, which I, as the "Hero of Ferelden", was obligated to attend. When I awoke after driving my sword through the archdemon's skull, I was quite shocked to find myself bruised and bloody, but still alive. My friends surrounded me, looking on with concern, while Alistair held me in his arms. "Daniella, wake up! Come back to us now, my love. Open your eyes." It took me several moments to realize the obvious implications of my continued existence. I pulled away from Alistair in horror.

"You…what did you do?" I felt nauseous, although if it was from my injuries or the knowledge of my lover's betrayal, I could not say.

"Daniella…I could not let you go." His eyes implored me to understand, but I could not. I could only think of him and…_her._ And whatever manner of being they had brought into existence that night.

Luckily, Wynne had insisted on whisking me away for some healing magic, and I had somehow ended up at Arl Eamon's estate in Denerim. Eamon had returned to Redcliffe, but Teagan was there and was a most gracious host. I instructed Zev to keep the king-to-be at bay, and he gleefully agreed. In truth, with all the clean-up to be done and the preparations for the coronation, I don't think that Alistair had much time to pursue an audience with me, even if he desired one.

I rested and healed, and by the day of the coronation, I looked somewhat presentable. My armor was uncomfortable on my sore ribs, but still felt more comfortable than the gown Teagan had thoughtfully provided. It was beautiful, but it had been so long since I had worn anything other than my armor that I felt naked and exposed without it.

I stood in the palace with the other nobility and assorted dignitaries that merited a private audience with the king. Alistair was going to speak privately with us before he greeted the crowd outside the palace walls.

My breath caught in my throat as I first caught sight of him in Cailan's gold armor with the crown upon his head. Maker's breath, but he did make a stunning figure, and he didn't look nearly as uncomfortable as I had expected. In fact, he looked quite…natural.

_As we crest the hill, Redcliffe castle looms on the horizon. I estimate that we should arrive before sundown. Morrigan and Leliana have been bickering about the Chantry for what seems like hours, so I have put some distance between us. Alistair has been riding nearby, but has been unusually quiet. As I pause for a moment, he reins in his mount next to me._

"_I need to talk to you," he says, "about something I probably should have mentioned sooner."_

_I give him a sidelong glance as I nudge my horse forward. I don't like the sound of this, at all. I decide to use his own defense against him: humor as deflection._

"_Let me guess. You're an idiot, just as Morrigan claims."_

_Alistair gives a startled laugh. "Yes! Exactly! I stopped you to tell you I'm an idiot. Thank the Maker you figured it out already. Now I can stop worrying I'll be found out."_

_I can't help but laugh. "You're cute when you're sarcastic." Where did __**that**__ come from?_

"_I am? But that's all the time. So, you really think…no, never mind that. I'm not trying to be cute…I'm trying to be serious!"_

_He sighs. "My mother was a serving girl at Redcliffe castle. She died when I was born. You know how I told you Arl Eamon raised me?"_

_He takes a deep breath, and the rest comes out in a rush. "The reason he did that was because my father was…King Maric. Cailan was my…well, half-brother, I suppose."_

_I cannot remember the last time I was so utterly at a loss for words. While my mind founders, my mouth comes up with, "So, you're not just a bastard, but a royal bastard?"_

_He gives another startled laugh. "Yes, I suppose so. I should use that line more often." He seems to sense that further explanation is necessary. "I would have told you sooner, but…it's never really meant anything to me. I've never spoken about it to anyone, really. Everyone who knew either resented me or coddled me. I didn't want you to know for as long as possible." He hangs his head. "I'm sorry."_

"_I'm hurt that you didn't trust me." Even as I speak it, I realize it's so unfair. After all, I have shared nothing with him about Howe's betrayal and my family's demise. Still, it doesn't make the words any less true. I __**am **__hurt. And I realize he would be hurt to know I am keeping things from him, as well. I vow to tell him all of it…soon._

"_No, please don't think that." His voice is pleading. "I __**do **__trust you. It just…never seemed like the right time. And I suppose part of me liked you not knowing."_

"_But…why?"_

"_When people find out, they treat me differently. I become the bastard prince rather than just Alistair. I never wanted it, and I certainly don't want to be king!" He shudders. "The very idea terrifies me."_

"_For what it's worth, I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I…guess I was just hoping you would like me for who I am. It was a dumb thing to do."_

_My heart breaks a bit at this last. Wasn't this the same thing I had wanted? For the other wardens to respect and like me for who I was, not for the Cousland name? How could I condemn him for this?_

"_I do like you, Alistair. Very much."_

_He manages a small smile. "Now, can we just move on, and I'll pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens?"_

_I grin in return. "And what does that make me?"_

"_The reason I am lucky," he replies, as he nudges his horse to a trot, leaving me blushing and grinning like a fool._

As he introduced me, he gestured for me to stand beside him amidst the enthusiastic applause of the small group. I walked to the front of the room, but made sure to stand more than an arm's length away. I acknowledged the applause, and studiously avoided contact with the new king.

"How are you feeling?" he asked me, as the cheering continued, undiminished.

"I am well. Thank you for asking, Your Majesty."

When he asked the next question, his formal tone mimicked mine. "And what, may I ask, are the Hero of Ferelden's future plans?"

"If it pleases Your Majesty, I was planning to travel to Orlais and meet with the Warden-Commander of the Grey Wardens there. Then I plan to rebuild the order here in Ferelden."

"Everything you do pleases me," he said with quiet intensity. I felt his eyes on me, searching my face, but I refused to meet his gaze. I was too afraid of what would happen if I looked in to those eyes. He sighed and cleared his throat. "Arl Howe's lands will become the property of the Grey Wardens. You, of course, will be made Commander. I am sure you will have the order rebuilt in no time."

"Thank you for your confidence, Your Highness," I said, as the applause died down at last. I spoke a few words to the crowd, and then made a hasty retreat. The rest of the day was a whirlwind of strange faces, handshakes and words of gratitude. I appreciated the gestures, but it all seemed so empty. I knew in my heart that I did not do this alone. I shouldn't even be alive. Many fine men perished in the final battle. Countless people sacrificed so that I could do what I did that day….Alistair and I, as much as any. It was not something that I could celebrate.

I left Denerim the next morning, and haven't been back since.

I stand up and stretch. I am feeling claustrophobic, and consider joining the recruits in their exertions. Having the Commander there is too much of a distraction, though. The Seneschal does not usually approve of my presence. I fear my skills are growing rusty.

There is a commotion in the hall. Ruff rolls on to his belly, ears pricked forward.

"You can't go in there, my lady," I hear the guard call out.

"Oh, do not worry. The Commander will be happy to see me."

I would know that lilting voice anywhere. "Leli?" I ask in disbelief, as my dog scrabbles to his feet and heads for the door. I beat him there.

"Daniella!" My friend enters the open doorway, and we hug each other fiercely, while Ruff barks and circles us happily, tongue lolling. My grin is so huge; I fear it will split my face.

The guard is lurking nearby, looking uncomfortable. "It's all right, warden. Go back to your post."

"Yes, Commander." He snaps off a salute, and is gone.

"Let me look at you," Leli says, as she holds me at arm's length. After what seems like mere seconds, her eyes widen. "Maker's breath…you're pregnant!" she exclaims.

"Shhhh," I hiss, as I grab her arm and drag her in to the office, closing the door behind us. Ruff's tail narrowly misses getting caught in the jam. "Must you announce it for the entire world to hear?"

She looks at me, incredulous. "You mean they don't know? How is that possible?"

I gesture for her to take the empty chair in front of the desk. I perch on the edge. "Not everyone is as intuitive as you are, thankfully. They just think I'm going soft. Maker knows I should be, the way I have been eating lately." I grin ruefully. "No one has questioned me about it yet, but I won't be able to disguise it much longer."

"Alistair?" she asks, and there is a litany of questions in the name. I decide to start with the simplest answer.

"Yes, it is Alistair's. Of course."

"Not 'of course'," she says, with a wicked grin. "I saw some of those men out there in the courtyard when I arrived."

"Leli!" I laugh. "Do you think I have nothing better to do than molest the new recruits?"

"I don't know about you, but I sure don't," she answers, a dreamy look in her eye. Then she refocuses her penetrating gaze on me. "He knows?"

"Well…"

"Daniella!"

"I have not seen him since the coronation. I have been busy, and have not been back to Denerim." Even as the half-truth rolls off my lips, I know she will see right through it.

"And he has not been here?"

"Well…" I say again. "He did come here…once. I was in Highever, at the time. But he was just here to see how things were coming along."

"Mm hmm," the bard replies, skeptically. "I am sure that was the only reason." She reaches out, touches my knee. "Have you still not forgiven him?" she asks, quietly.

I sigh. "It's not that. I'm not angry…not anymore. I'm grateful for my life…for our lives," I correct, gesturing toward my gently swollen abdomen. "I understand why he did what he did."

"But that does not change the fact that when I am near to him, I can only think of him and," I nearly choke on the name, "Morrigan, together." My words come faster, tumbling out. "I don't want to, but the images come, unbidden, and I don't know how to stop them."

"Oh, Daniella," my friend sighs. "I don't know what images you see, but I would be willing to wager that whatever you are imagining is **nothing** like what actually took place. In fact," another wicked grin, "you should just imagine her as a horny toad. I'm sure that's what Alistair did."

I cannot help but laugh. Leave it to Leli to lighten the mood. Maker, but I have missed her. I miss them all, so much. I never would have thought it possible. All of those days, trekking through the back roads, the blight bearing down on us – all I could think of was getting to the end.

Now here we are, all scattered to the winds. I love being Warden Commander, but being apart from them my friends is far more difficult than I ever could have imagined.

"Come," I say, rising, linking my arm in hers. "Let's get something to eat and I will introduce you to some of our more dashing recruits. I will tell them how the fifth blight would never have ended without the assistance of my lovely rogue."

Leli knows I am abandoning the topic of my pregnancy, for now, and because she is my friend, she allows it. "As you wish, Commander," she says, as we head out the door, Ruff on our heels. "Only when we tell it, perhaps we will say that it was you that assisted me, hmm?"

We garner quite a few stares in the dining hall, though if it is because the men are all bewitched by Leliana, or if they are overcome with curiosity to see their Commander dining with a stranger, I am not sure. Despite my promise to introduce her around, we spend the meal engrossed in each other's company. Leli tells me about helping Brother Genitivi with all the pilgrims who come now to visit Andastre's ashes.

"I love the work," she explains, "and Brother Genitivi is a dear. But…" she pauses, looking uncomfortable.

"What?"

"I know that you never really believed that the Maker told me in a vision to join you, but it is the truth."

I choose my words carefully. "I always believed that you believed, Leli."

"Ah, but that is not quite the same thing, now, is it?" she asks me with a sly grin. "Regardless," she continues, "I started to get this feeling that…I needed to come back. That you needed me."

"Well, I am glad you are here, whatever the reason. But I think you can see now that all is well. Your concerns were unfounded."

"Oh, really? Is that what you think?"

I am starting to get a bad feeling about where this conversation is going. "What are you getting at?"

She leans back, all mock innocence. "I am getting at nothing. I wanted to come visit my friends. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Friends." I roll the word over my tongue. "So, who else have you seen?"

"No one, yet. I came here first."

"Uh-huh. Who else do you plan to visit?"

"Well, I thought I might go to Denerim next. Wynne is still there, as far as I know. And I will visit with the king, of course, if I can gain an audience."

"He had better grant you an audience! If he doesn't, you let me know, and I will ride on down there and kick his arse all over the palace!" I proclaim, and Leliana giggles at the thought. I narrow my eyes at her. "But why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me?"

Again with the wide-eyed innocence. "I don't know what you mean."

"Leli," I warn. "You cannot meddle in this. Truly. It is…complicated."

"I agree."

"It is not your place to say anything to Alistair about…" I wave vaguely towards my midsection.

"Again, I agree wholeheartedly. It is **your** place to tell him. And soon. Do you not think that word of the Grey Warden Commander's pregnancy will spread to Denerim like wildfire, once your secret is out?"

"I'm afraid." I'm shocked to hear the words exit my mouth, giving voice to the worry that has kept me awake so many nights since I realized my condition. "Alistair and I…we both have the taint. What if the baby..."

My friend is silent; considering. "You know that I am not one for romantic fancies," she states at last. I blink at the non-sequitur as she continues. "When I first met you and our future king in Lothering, he was already following you around like a love-sick pup. And you were oblivious. I figured he didn't stand a chance."

"But then you started to fall for his awkward charm, and it was kind of cute. First love, and all that. I thought it would pass quickly. Passions that burn that hot usually flame out fast, especially when the couple is together, day in and day out, under those kinds of circumstances."

"As the days went by and the two of you only grew stronger, I was forced to reconsider my opinion. You were friends, partners, and lovers, yes…but you were also something more than that. You seemed to be…two halves of the same whole." She gives me a beatific smile. "I may no longer be part of the Chantry, but I recognize the beauty of a Maker's miracle when I see it."

She clasps my hands in hers; those ice blue eyes bore in to mine. "This child is the manifestation of that miracle – the two halves joined in to one and made in to flesh. How could it be anything other than perfect?"

I feel a tear roll down my cheek. I don't have Leliana's faith, but I fervently want to believe that what she is saying is true.

"Be that as it may, promise me…" my voice cracks. "Promise me you will not say anything to Alistair about it."

"Did I not pledge you my loyalty long ago?" she queries, offended. "You can trust me to do as you ask."

"Thank you," I manage a weak smile. "Now, let us not speak of this again and just enjoy our visit, shall we?"

"Agreed." She grins, and then raises an eyebrow. "Now, which one of these charming young men should I choose to be my companion for the evening?"


	3. Hope, Reborn

**A/N: Anyone familiar with DA:O will realize that I took some liberties with time and space during the flashback to the final battle. Obviously, the Landsmeet and the final battle both take place in Denerim, but in the game your party travels to Redcliffe and back, first. For the purposes of my story, I wanted to leave Alistair behind, so I'm just a bit vague about things. Chalk it up to artistic license, please? =)**

**Thank you to fifespice for pointing out that Alistair does not properly acknowledge his culpability for the things he said to Daniella after the Landsmeet. I only changed a few words, but I hope it helps.**

**Alistair**

I am in the library at the palace, trying to concentrate on what the men in front of me are saying.

"Your Highness, those lands have belonged to my family for generations! Just because he claims he found some document bequeathing it to his ancestors…"

"It was bequeathed as a dowry for my great-grandmother. Look, it is stated right here! Is that not your great-grandfather's signature?"

"But they never married! How can you think that agreement would be binding when the woman in question ran off with another man?"

My head is starting to pound. I never imagined being king would be so…tedious. So many feuds and petty disputes. It makes me long for the days when my troubles were easily solved by lopping the heads off of various darkspawn.

Thus, I am greatly relieved when one of the palace guards interrupts. "Pardon me, Your Majesty, but there is a visitor here to see you."

Fearing more bickering nobles, I ask warily, "Who is it?"

"She would not give her name, Your Highness…she said only to tell you that she is an old friend." My heart skips a beat. It couldn't be **her**, could it_?_ But no, the guard would recognize the Warden Commander.

Belatedly, I realize the guard is blushing. "She is quite charming, if I may be so bold. Quite, er…lovely."

Ah. There is only one woman I know of who could provoke this reaction in a Royal Guard. But what in Andastre's name is she doing here?

"Sorry, gentlemen," I say, trying my best to feign regret. "We shall have to address this matter again at another time."

They look disappointed, but they bow respectfully and take their leave, still arguing.

"Please see my guest in," I request of the guard.

"As you wish, Your Highness."

Moments later he returns, with Leliana in tow.

"Leliana!" I give her a hug and a kiss on both cheeks. "You're looking as lovely as ever. What brings you to Denerim?"

She giggles. "Well, aren't you the charming one? I imagine being king forces one to brush up on one's social graces, hmm?"

"You know me too well, my friend. Please don't tell the nobles about the time I inquired about your femaleness, all right?"

"That is long since forgotten, Your Highness."

"Don't you start with that! There are some days I forget that I actually have a name." I gesture for her to take one of the chairs in front of the fire, as I sink in to the other. "So, how have you been?"

"I am well. I am helping Brother Genitivi manage the pilgrims who come to visit Andastre's ashes. There are more and more each day, it seems."

"Yes, I had heard you were in Haven. I imagine it is quite a bit different now that it was the last time we visited."

"Well, not quite so many deranged religious fanatics running about, if that's what you mean. Or perhaps there are, depending on one's perspective." We both laugh. "I like knowing that we made it possible for all those people to visit something that means so much to them. I suppose that seems silly."

"Not at all. Our little group made a great many things possible for a great many people. I think we deserve to take some pride in that."

"You can ask, you know."

"Ask what?"

"The question that has been on your lips since I walked through the door."

"Have you seen her…Daniella?" I cannot believe how foreign her name sounds. I have not allowed myself to speak it, or even think it, in many moons.

"Yes. I went to Vigil's Keep before I came here."

"How is she?" I ask, ashamed of the beseeching tone of my voice.

Instead of replying, Leliana rises to stand in front of the fire, her back to me.

"Do you remember the night of the Landsmeet?"

I'm momentarily thrown by the apparent change in topic. "Yes, of course! How could I forget?"

"Daniella gathered all of us together and away we crept, in the dead of night…off to slay the archdemon."

I feel the heat rising in me as I recall what she is describing. Daniella did not, in fact, gather "all of us." As I lay with Morrigan, in my chamber, my crafty little warden was sneaking off to battle, leaving Wynne and I behind…Wynne, because she had been growing more frail with every passing day; and I, because she sought to save my life by sacrificing her own that day.

I had known she might do something of the kind…hadn't that been why I had accepted Morrigan's blood magic ritual, after all? But the thought of it still infuriated me, even after all this time. How could she have even **thought** to go off to fight without me? I would never have done the same to her.

As it turned out, she needn't have worried. I never awoke until the sun was high in the sky the following day. I was a half-day behind them, and although I rode my horse as hard as I could, I arrived at Fort Drakon too late that night to be of much use.

_I arrive at the Denerim gates several hours after nightfall. The froth flies from my mount's neck as I rein him in sharply._

"_Soldier!" I demand of the man by the gate. "Have you seen the Grey Wardens?" I assume that Dani and Riordan will be together, leading the skirmish._

"_Not since much earlier this evening, ser!" he yells above the noise. There are fires burning everywhere in the city…the acrid smoke burns my eyes and throat. I see corpses…human, elf, dwarf and darkspawn alike…littering the streets. I hear screaming, and it seems like it is coming from everywhere at once. _

"_Do you know where they went?" _

_Before he can reply, I see a familiar form out of the corner of my eye. I leap off the horse and run._

_He is locked in battle with a hurlock. In one quick motion, I remove its head from its body, and then I grab the elf by his tunic._

"_Tell me where she is, Zevran! Now!" I bellow._

"_Tsk, tsk," he replies, shaking his head, mocking me. He is covered in gore, making it hard for me to maintain my grip. "Is this anyway for a Grey Warden to behave?"_

_I pull him closer and press the blade of my sword to his neck. "I am in no mood to play games, Zevran. If you do not tell me where she went, I will do the same to you that I did to that darkspawn." I smile, but it is not really a smile at all. "And I think I will rather enjoy it."_

_Fear flickers in the elf's eyes, but his voice is steady when he says, "She will not like it if I tell."_

"_She is planning to die tonight. I doubt she will have much to say about the matter after that."_

"_If you stop her, she will never forgive me." _

"_I don't mean to stop her," I assure him. It's the truth. I don't care if she kills the damn archdemon. Assuming Morrigan told the truth, it shouldn't matter. I just want to make sure she doesn't get herself killed in the process._

_Then I realize something, and I can't help but laugh. "All those times you gave me a hard time about being her lap dog, and you're just as afraid of her as I am! You're afraid of what she will do to you if she finds out you tattled on her."_

_The elf narrows his eyes at me, but does not speak. I try another tact. Despite my earlier bravado, I'm not sure I can bring myself to actually slit his throat. Although the thought has occurred to me, more than once._

"_I know you care about her, too, Zevran. I just want to make sure she's all right. You and I both know her best chance of getting to the archdemon is with me by her side."_

_He studies me suspiciously. "And you mean to let her forfeit her life while you stand idly by?"_

"_Yes. No. Look, I don't have time to explain right now, but I do not mean to give my life for hers. There will be no recriminations for you when it's over."_

_He still looks doubtful, but he gives in. "They went to Fort Drakon. They mean to engage the dragon on the top of the fort."_

_I am running again before the words are completely out of his mouth._

As it turned out, I needn't have worried. She managed to make it to the top of the fort without my assistance, which was a bit ego-crushing, truth be told. I arrived just in time to see her sink her blade into the dragon's cranium. I had a heart-stopping moment when the creature gave one final shriek and threw Daniella clear; her body hit one of the crumbling pillars and slid to the ground, unmoving.

But she was merely unconscious, not dead. She came around fairly quickly, and if I had known how she was going to react when she woke up, I might not have wished it to happen quite so fast.

I realize Leliana is staring at me, and that some kind of response is required. "Yes, I know what happened. I was there, remember? At least for part of it." I stand and pace. "Why are you bringing this up, Leli? I don't like thinking about it."

"Daniella thought she was going to die that night. She gave me something to give to you…after she was gone. When she survived, I held on to it. But I think you should have it now." She reaches in to her cloak, which is draped over the chair, and removes an envelope.

I am once again embarrassed by the thrill that runs through me at the thought of contact…any contact…with my former lover. It has been so long since I have seen her, spoken to her, **touched** her. My hand trembles as I reach for the envelope, tentatively, as though it might contain more harsh words…all we seemed able to speak, at the end.

Leliana maintains her grasp on the envelope, and our eyes meet. "I am not sure I am doing the right thing here, Alistair. This message was meant to be read after her death. I am sure she wouldn't approve of my giving it to you now."

"Then why do it?"

She releases the note with a sigh. "Things are not as they should be. I feel a…compulsion…to try to set it right, much like I did when I joined the two of you, so long ago."

My brow furrows. I have never completely understood Leliana and her visions, revelations…whatever you want to call them…but I do trust her. I know that she loves us, as we love her. Whatever is guiding her hand; her heart is in the right place.

"And now, would Your Majesty be so kind as to provide a warm meal and a soft bed for a traveling bard?" The twinkling eyes and mischievous smile are back in place as though they never left.

"It would be my pleasure, my lady," I say, as I tuck the letter in to my pocket and extend my arm to her.

We have a lovely meal and I feel myself relaxing for the first time in ages…maybe for the first time since I became king. We talk and laugh late in to the night, and when she finally bids me good night, I am ready for bed, as well. It isn't until I am in my room, getting undressed, that I feel the envelope in my pocket and remember the letter.

It is with more than a little trepidation that I remove it from my clothing. I sit on the edge of the bed, regarding it, as though it will instruct me on what to do next. I try to consider all the implications and outcomes that reading the letter might bring, but in my heart, I know it does not matter. Now that I have it, I could no more decide not to read it than I could decide to stop breathing.

I take a deep breath, and open the envelope.

"_My love,_

_If you are reading this, then I am gone, and so, hopefully, are the archdemon and the blight. I know that you must be very angry with me right now. I know I would be if the situation were reversed. But I hope that one day you will be able to forgive me._

_You are going to be a magnificent king. Wynne once told me that a good ruler is firm, but fair, and always puts the needs of their people first. You are capable of that, and so much more. You have always been a beacon of light in the darkness for me, and I know you will be the same for Ferelden. _

_None of this would have been possible without you. You saved me from the hate and rage that threatened to consume me after Howe's betrayal of my family. You made jokes when I was sad; held me when I was scared. You were my defender, my champion, my shield from all that threatened to harm me. You showed me that love does not have to be a cage, but instead, can set you free. _

_I love you, Alistair Theirin. Always, and forever._

_Yours,_

_Daniella"_

I read the letter once, twice…until my tears cause the words blur on the page. My eyes keep returning to the words, "Always, and forever." How many times had we made that promise to each other? I had broken that promise with the hurtful words I spoke after the Landsmeet. I couldn't take them back, but perhaps I could set things right?

The resolve gathers shape within me as I realize that there is only one way to find out.


	4. Lovers, Reunited

**Daniella**

_Thwack!_

The sweat flies from my brow as I strike the practice dummy with the broadside of my sword. The sun is just rising over the horizon, and I am alone in the arena. I have decided that if I am going to suffer from insomnia, why not make the most of my time?

_Thwack!_

I strike the dummy again, hard, and it wobbles, but does not fall over. I know my anger is misplaced, but the exertion, as always, soothes me.

When I arose this morning after tossing and turning all night, Ruff opened one eye in the gloom to watch me get dressed from his place by my bedside. He followed me out of the barracks into the pre-dawn chill, but when I whistled for him to follow me to the training room, he cast me a reproachful glance and set off for the kennels. I didn't know if he was after food or just a quiet place to snooze, but either way, even my dog was disgruntled with me.

Then, as I buckled on my armor, I had to use the last hole of the strap to secure the breastplate around my middle. I still have not told anyone about my impending offspring, although the choice will not be mine to make much longer. The indecision fills me with frustration.

_Thwack! Thwack!_

Speaking of frustration…now, not only am I having dreams where my child comes out with the head of a dragon and the body of a genlock, but I am dreaming of **him**, as well. The two of us, in my tent, doing all the things we used to do. The two of us, in his tent, doing things we **never **did. The latter I blame on Leli's influence, filling my mind with stories of her conquests. I don't know if my nighttime imaginings are due to the mere fact of the pregnancy, or because the child that grows within me belongs to the man I am dreaming about, but I awaken rather more bothered than I can bear.

I round on the dummy with one final roar, and knock it to the ground.

"Perhaps this isn't the best time," comes a bemused voice from the doorway.

I recognize the voice at once, and not only because it has been haunting my dreams, of late. To my credit, I manage to drop neither my jaw nor my sword. In fact, I assume at first that my beleaguered brain has conjured him up just to vex me further. But when I turn, there he stands, as real as an almost-Templar, Grey Warden, King of Ferelden can be.

I am silent as my eyes drink him in. Rather than the gold royal armor, he is wearing the drake scale armor I had Wade make for him in Denerim. Duncan's shield is strapped across his back. He looks so much like the Grey Warden I recall, I wonder again if I have conjured him out of memory. But then something out of place catches my eye, and I frown.

"Is that my sword?"

"And hello to you, too, lovely lady," he teases. I ignore the mild rebuke, and forge on.

"Why do you have my sword?"

He unsheathes it and hands it to me, ceremoniously. The blade gleams, and the runes that Sandal enchanted it with sparkle. It has been lovingly restored, that much is clear.

"I picked it up that night, on the top of Fort Drakon. I figured you might want it later." He shrugs. "Eamon has been badgering me to build a monument for it…for you…in Denerim, but I would not do that without your permission."

"Thank you." I look in to those amber eyes. "Truly. I thought I had lost it for good."

"You are quite welcome." He is staring, and I fear his gaze will penetrate my very soul, just as it always has. I have to look away.

"So, what brings you to Vigil's Keep?" I ask. "Checking up on me?"

"Er, no." For the first time, he seems uncomfortable. "Actually, Leliana came to see me last week."

"That little wench!" I think. "If she sold me out, I am going to wring her scrawny, Orlesian neck!"

"She gave me a letter that you had written…a long time ago. She still had it."

This is so unexpected that for a moment, I don't know what he's talking about. A letter? What letter?And then I recall.

"Oh. I see." But I don't, not really. Why would Leli give him the letter now? Why did she still have it after all this time? She was supposed to deliver it after my death, but here I stood. What was that little rogue up to?

"Reading it got me thinking about all that happened…and about us. Please," he holds up a hand as I start to speak. "Just let me say this, all right?" I nod, and he continues.

"I was a complete idiot. I was so panicked at the idea of being king that I just went mad. I never should have said the things I said to you, and I will always regret it. I'm sorry."

He begins to pace back and forth in front of me. "But I will not apologize for what I did with Morrigan. Don't get me wrong. It was horrible. The thought of her and a child out there, somewhere, well…it does haunt me from time to time."

"But I did what I had to do to keep you alive! I knew what you had planned, and I didn't think I could stop you. I never could when you got an idea into that head of yours. And as it turned out, I was right."

He stops pacing and turns to me. "I said it then, and I'll say it now…I could not bear to lose you. And I won't apologize for that. Not to anyone."

"Alistiar…"

But he is on a roll, and will not be stopped. "You said in your letter that you believed that I could be the ruler that Ferelden needs. But I have not been! And do you know why?"

I do not, but judging by his accusing gaze, I assume it has something to do with me.

"Because I spend every moment wondering what in Andastre's name went wrong! We never dreamed that we would both survive the blight. We were grateful for every moment we had together. Yet here we both are!"

His voice has risen to a bellow, and I can envision all my men standing and listening with rapt attention. I hope he closed the door to the arena when he came in. "We are alive, but for whatever reason – guilt, blame, or plain old thick headedness – we are apart! What kind of sense does that make?"

Suddenly, he seizes my hand in a grip so tight it is almost painful. When he speaks, it is for my ears only. "All I ever wanted was a life with you in it. Is that truly too much to ask?"

"I…I don't know.' My head is spinning. I know that a part of me has wished for this, dreamed of this, but now that it is happening, I don't know what to think, or say.

Still holding my hand in a vice grip, he stands before me, so close my nose is almost touching his breastplate. His physical proximity is not helping my reeling mind. For a moment, I think I have fabricated his scent – sun-warmed skin, leather and campfire – from my recollections, because surely the king does not camp outside any longer. Then I realize that there are long stretches between here and Denerim where there are no towns or lodging. He has spent the past few days the same way we spent so many before that.

_We're sitting side by side in front of the crackling fire. Ruff is snoring next to me. Everyone else is asleep._

"_So," he says, "all this…the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the Blight looming over us…will you miss it once it's over?"_

"_Oh, yes. I tear up just thinking about it." I sniff._

_He laughs softly. Maker, but I have come to love the sound of his laugh. "There'll be no more running for our lives," he warns. "No more darkspawn, and…" he gestures around us, "no more camping in the middle of nowhere."_

"_Maker preserve us! Whatever shall we do?" I ask in mock horror. He chuckles again._

_I gather my courage to ask the question I have been wondering for a while now. "If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never…?" I trail off._

_"'Never?'" he repeats. "Never what? Had a good pair of shoes?"_

_I blush. "You know what I mean!"_

"_I'm not sure I do. Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"_

_My blush deepens. It occurs to me that this is role reversal, him teasing me. He does seem to be enjoying it. I'm already regretting instigating this conversation._

"_Now you are making fun of me," I declare, with as much indignance as I can muster._

"_Make fun of you, dear lady? Perish the thought!" He is positively gleeful, damn him! "But tell me…have __**you **__ever licked a lamppost in winter?"_

_I keep my indignance wrapped around me like a cloak. "You are not supposed to ask a lady that!" _

_He grins, but backs down. "You are right, my lady. Forgive me. I, myself, have never had the pleasure. Not that I haven't thought about it, of course, but…you know. The sisters of the Chantry taught me to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of a beautiful woman such as yourself. That's not so bad, is it?"_

_Finally, an opening for me to tease him a bit. "So, you think I'm beautiful?"_

_He scoffs. "You know that you are. You're ravishing, resourceful, and all of those other things you'd probably hurt me for not saying."_

_He clears his throat. "I know it might sound strange, considering we haven't really known each other for that long. But I've come to care for you…a great deal." _

_He studies my face, and then looks away. "I was just wondering…do you think you might ever…feel the same way about me?"_

_I know that I already do feel the same, but I am not ready to admit it. We have so much to accomplish, and it is all so overwhelming, and I don't know if this is the right time for this…for us. So instead, I say, "I don't know. It's too soon to say."_

_He meets my eyes again, and with the firelight casting flickering shadows on his profile, he reaches up and brushes a strand of hair from my face. My cheek feels scalded where his fingertips touch it. _

"_Is it too soon for this?" he asks in a husky voice. Then he's leaning in, and without thinking, I am leaning to meet him, our faces tilting in mirror image of each other._

_He is hesitant at first, his lips barely brushing mine. When I respond to his kiss, it becomes more urgent, but no less tender. He tastes salty from our meal, and smoky from the fire. It is the most intoxicating thing I have ever experienced._

_After what seems like far too short a time, he pulls away. _

"_I don't know," I say, breathless. "I may need to try again to be sure."_

"_I think that can be arranged," he replies with a lopsided grin. _

"_Alistair," I say, as he leans in again, "regarding what you said earlier…about me hurting you. I know you were joking, but…I just want you to know, I would never. Hurt you, that is." I don't know why I feel the need to say this. I know he's still stinging from his long-lost half-sister's vicious rejection. So many people in his life have hurt him. I want him to know I've no intention of doing the same._

"_Nor I you," he says, stroking my cheek again. "Not ever." That cockeyed grin returns. "So, can we get back to the good part now?"_

Despite our protestations to the contrary, we have hurt each other with the things that we've done, unintentional though it may have been. We were faced with impossible choices, and through it all, we tried to let our love for each other guide our way. Is it possible to do that again? Can we forgive each other and start over?

Alistair is regarding me intently, and I realize that he may have said something that I missed. "Sorry…you smell like campfire," I say by way of explanation.

"Oh." He looks understandably perplexed. "Is that good, or bad?"

"I don't know," I repeat. I pull my hand away. "Look, Alistair, when you say you want me in your life, what are you proposing, exactly?"

The perplexed look deepens. "I thought that was clear," he says. And right before my disbelieving eyes, the King of Ferelden gets down on one knee. "I came here because I love you, and I miss you, and I cannot live without you any longer. Daniella Cousland, will you marry me?"


	5. Passions, Reignited

**A/N: Ok, here it is, finally - smut! Why I chose to write this from the male perspective, I can't explain, other than it was Alistair's turn to share. Fair warning - just as it often is in real life, the sex is awkward, clumsy and over too soon. And yet, endearing and heartfelt (I hope!) This was the original ending to the story, so once you finish, let me know which ending you like better. And thanks for R/R - keep 'em coming!**

**Alistair**

I am holding my breath, still down on one knee, when I hear the door to the arena bang open, and the stomping of boot-clad feet in the entry hall. Daniella grabs my arm and yanks me to my feet just as the seneschal enters the room with several recruits in his wake. He draws up short when he sees us.

"Commander! I…I'm sorry. I didn't know you were using the training room." His eyes dart nervously from Daniella to me.

"My fault, Seneschal Varel. I didn't mean to intrude on your practice schedule." Dani is still holding my arm as she begins pulling me quickly towards the exit.

The seneschal is still gaping at us. I know he recognizes me from my previous visit to Vigil's Keep, and I know the rest of the recruits probably don't have any idea who I am. I have only allowed one painting to be commissioned since I took the throne, and I felt so ridiculous I vowed never to do it again. They seem more in awe of the Commander's presence, which is as it should be.

"Carry on," she commands, as we reach the hallway, and then she is nearly running for the arena exit, with me in tow.

She drops my arm once we burst through the door, and we stand facing each other in the day's early light. The compound is coming to life around us…the sounds of dogs barking, men talking and metal clanging carries to us on the morning breeze. Daniella eyes the wardens milling about. "We need to go somewhere where we can talk privately," she tells me.

"Okay."

She walks briskly, with purpose, and I have to hurry to keep up. We pass the barracks of the recruits, and come to a bungalow at the end of the row. It is small, but it has a covered porch and is obviously well-maintained.

Once we're inside, she busies herself with tidying up; starting a fire in the fireplace. I sit in a rather comfortable chair and wait her out. I know her well enough to know that physical movement soothes her; allows her to think.

But as the moments draw out, I begin to grow impatient. After all, I had posed a rather significant question before we were so suddenly interrupted. I am both excited and terrified to hear the answer. I clear my throat expectantly.

She glances towards me. "What?"

I merely stare, meaningfully.

She sighs and sinks in to a chair across from me. "I suppose you're awaiting a response to your proposal?"

"That would be rather nice, yes."

"What about a child?" Her tone is challenging. "Nothing has changed in that regard, I assume? You're still expected to provide an heir to the throne?"

"Yes, I presume so. But I don't care what is expected. I have done my duty to Ferelden. I fought the blight. I became king. Am I expected to sacrifice everything in the name of duty? Once, I was prepared to do that. Now, I'm not. Not anymore."

Again, the narrowing eyes. "I'm the Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. I will not give that up."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

"I would have to divide my time between Denerim and Vigil's Keep."

"Of course. I understand."

Her voice softens a bit. "A child is more than just an heir, Alistair." Her eyes search my face. "I know how much it means to you to have a family. You're willing to sacrifice that to be with me?"

I swallow the lump in my throat; try to think of the right words to say, for once. "That day, outside of Goldanna's house," Dani scowls at the mention of my gold-digging half-sister, "I told you what family means to me. Family are the people who love and support you, no matter what. They accept you for who you are without trying to change you. By that definition, you are my family…the only family I have ever known. Why would I give that up to search for another? There has never been any other. It has always been you."

She studies me for a moment longer, and then sighs. "Well, I do have one other request."

The first wings of hope are beating against my chest. "Anything. I will not deny you anything, ever again."

"We will need to hire a nanny."

I hear the words, but I can't make sense of them. "Wh-What?"

She cocks an eyebrow, one side of her mouth lifting. She's entertained by my bewilderment.

"To take care of our child," she elaborates.

The blood is rushing in my ears. My eyes drop to her stomach, but it remains covered by her armor. "But…how? When? How?" I stammer.

"What do you mean, 'how'? I thought you assured Wynne you knew where babies come from." The amused smile remains intact. "As for the when, I figure it had to be the night before the Landsmeet. It was the last time we were together." She shrugs.

"And…it is mine? You are sure?"

"Alistair! How dare you ask me that?" Her tone is harsh, but she is laughing.

"No, I don't mean it like that! It's just…I didn't think it was possible."

"I know. I have been thinking a lot about that. The only explanation I have is that neither of us have had the taint for very long, and when Avernus gave me that potion at Soldier's Peak, he told me that it slowed the destructive nature of the blood. Maybe those two things, combined, provided a small window of opportunity..." she trails off with another shrug.

My mind is reeling. A baby! We're going to have a child! I leap from my chair and pull her in to my arms. She gives a startled laugh as I sweep her off her feet and swing her around.

Then we are kissing, and it feels as exciting as the first time, yet as familiar as the last. At first I am tentative, but her arms lock tightly around my neck, pulling me down to her lips. Her tongue darts in to my mouth, touching mine. Then I am returning the gesture, exploring her mouth with my tongue, and she tastes just as sweet as I remember.

She pulls away from me, abruptly. "Armor…" she pants, undoing the straps of mine. I follow her lead, unbuckling her breastplate and pulling it off. The garment she wears underneath is thin; there just to prevent chafing. She gets my breastplate loose and I remove that, as well. The drake scale armor is lined, and I don't wear anything under it. I thrill at the desire in her eyes as she reaches out and strokes my bare chest, trailing her fingers lightly along my skin.

The rest of the armor quickly follows the first, clanking into piles on the floor. We laugh as we wrestle with stubborn buckles and hop around gracelessly in an attempt to unencumber ourselves. Finally, we are free…she, wearing nothing but the gauzy top and leather breeches, and I, in breeches only. We come together again, frantically. Her fingers entwine in my hair as I kiss her lips again, before blazing a trail from the hollow of her collarbone to the soft skin beneath her earlobe. She tilts her head to allow me better access, and gives a little sigh as I catch the lobe in my teeth and nibble.

Daniella turns her face back to me, kissing me urgently, and when she leans her weight against me, I am caught off guard. I stumble back a step or two, my arms still wrapped tightly around her, until the backs of my knees hit the chair I had been sitting in. I fall in to it, and pull her on top of me.

"Oof!"

She grins. "This will do," she informs me, straddling my hips.

This puts her barely covered breasts in a very convenient spot, and I reach up and caress them with both of my hands. Perhaps I am only imagining it, but they do seem a little larger than I remember. Apparently more sensitive as well, because the nipples harden even as I caress them through the shirt.

"Alistair." My name comes on an exhale.

I pull the top over her head and toss it aside. As my hands reach for her waist, I notice another difference…where once her abdomen was concave, now it is rounded softly. Where once her body was hard angles, now she is soft curves. I marvel at this, even as I pull her towards me, my mouth taking over the task my hands had just abandoned. She is moaning now, rocking her hips gently against me. Our breath is coming in short gasps. My arousal strains painfully against the constraints of my clothing.

Then she is sliding down the length of my body, wet kisses trailing wandering fingertips. My muscles jump and twitch in anticipation of every touch. When she is kneeling on the floor between my legs, she reaches for the laces of my pants with a gleam in her eye.

"Be nice," I growl.

"I thought that's what I was being, my love," she responds innocently, eyebrow arched.

As soon as the laces are loosened, I spring free, almost painfully erect now. She proceeds as before…fingertips roving lightly along my length, followed by the moist heat of her mouth. It feels like every muscle in my body is coiled as I try to restrain myself.

"That," I manage to gasp, "is not being nice."

I grab her by the shoulders and pull her on top of me once again. I feel like I am burning, skin flushed, as my mouth tries to devour hers. I tug desperately at her breeches, and she assists me by sliding them off and kicking them aside. She kneels above me, and I have a moment to drink in the sight revealed before me. I say what I said the first time I saw this vision…the only thought I ever have at these moments.

"Maker's breath, but you are beautiful."

Daniella holds my gaze as she lowers herself until just the tip of my shaft enters her.

"Please," I beg, not for the first time, and undoubtedly, not for the last.

With a sigh, she allows me deep inside of her, and I shudder with the pleasure of it. She moves slowly on top of me, eyes closed, head thrown back, so that her hair tickles my forearm as it encircles her. Our rhythm speeds up, in unison. But it has been so long…too long…and it is over much too quickly. I cry out as my fingers dig in to the soft skin at her waist. She slows, then stops, head tucked against my shoulder as I try to catch my breath.

"I'm sorry," I whisper in her ear, my breath rustling the hair that flows over her shoulder. "That…wasn't how I wanted that to go."

She leans back, brushes my lips with hers, gently. "Don't worry, good ser. I am thinking of all the ways that you can make it up to me, as we speak."

She is true to her word. Somewhere between our second and third tryst, it occurs to me that we have never been able to enjoy ourselves with complete privacy before. There has always been someone nearby – in camp, in the inn, in the castle. But we have this barracks entirely to ourselves, and we make the most of it. We explore every room, making no effort to muffle our sounds. The Warden Commander barracks at Vigil's Keep quickly becomes my new favorite place.

Afterwards, we lie in bed with her head on my shoulder, legs intertwined, bodies spent. My fingers trace lightly over the small, round scars near her shoulder blades. They are from the arrows that pierced her armor in the Tower of Ishal. I know there are matching ones just below her collarbone on her chest. I know every inch of this landscape, and I cannot believe I ever said I would relinquish it forever. I must have been utterly mad – possessed by an evil abomination, no doubt.

"That was…exhausting."

"I didn't hear you complaining earlier," she reminds me.

"And I'm not complaining now. Just stating a fact. You wore me out."

"Yes, well…being pregnant seems to have increased **all** of my appetites. But you, my love, are out of shape."

"I didn't hear you complaining earlier," I tease her with her own words. She laughs.

"You still have not answered my question, you know," I state matter-of-factly.

"I'm going to do things that make you angry," my love informs me, apropos of nothing.

"I know," I reply quickly…too quickly, it seems. I sense rather than see the frown. "What? I was just agreeing with you, my dear."

"Mmm. And you are going to say things that make me angry."

"Of that, I have no doubt."

"I suppose, if we can live with each other…"

"Or can't live without each other…" I supply, helpfully.

"…then the answer is yes. Alistair Theirin, I will marry you."

"When should this wedding take place? Is tomorrow too soon, do you think?"

She chuckles. "Afraid I'm going to change my mind?"

"Of course not! I told you before, my lady…no woman can resist my charm."

"Mmm. Well, perhaps not tomorrow, but it will have to be soon if you don't want to scandalize the nation when your very pregnant bride-to-be walks down the aisle."

"Bah! Let them talk. After all, they're the ones who've been nagging me to provide an heir. Now I've given them what they wanted."

She chuckles again. "Not quite what they had in mind, I'm sure."

"Yes, well, it will have to do."

She snuggles closer, and I tighten my arm around her. She gives a small sigh of contentment, and her breathing slows and steadies. I think that perhaps I have missed this most of all. I love many things about my fellow warden – she is intelligent and brave, strong and beautiful, willful and loyal – but she is rarely ever vulnerable. At least, not that she would let others see. It is a special gift meant only for me, and I do not take it lightly. She is to be my wife, and I know that I would give my life for her…or our unborn child.

"I love you, Daniella," I whisper into her hair, kissing the top of her head, gently.

"And I love you, too, Alistair. Always, and forever."

"Always, and forever," I confirm, before drifting into a peaceful sleep.


	6. Epilogue

**A/N: As I mentioned before, this is an addition to the original story. I owe a HUGE thank you to my friends who are married with children, from whom I've obtained all my knowledge of children and child-rearing, and to my brother, whose wife is pregnant with their first child. He's as befuddled as Alistair, but at least he has a garage to hide out in! **

**Alistair**

My daughter's wails sneak stealthily into my dreams…far away, at first, but growing ever more insistent. Eyes closed, I reach for the other side of the bed, but it's cold and empty. Then I remember, and groan. Daniella is gone…has been for a couple of weeks now. An urgent matter at Vigil's Keep, and the Warden Commander could shirk her duties no longer.

I pull my wife's pillow over my head and groan once more, as the baby's cries continue, undiminished. I wonder if I shall ever have an uninterrupted night's sleep again.

* * *

It wasn't like this, at first. In fact, life was as close to perfect as it had ever been. We weren't married the day after our reunion at the Keep, but it was shortly thereafter. It was a small, private ceremony, much to the dismay of the noble ladies and gentleman who love to see and be seen at such events.

Leliana stood with Daniella; Teagan with me. I was still a bit peeved at him for helping to hide Daniella from me after the battle with the archdemon, but he did seem genuinely pleased about our nuptials, so I decided to let bygones be bygones. I was even less enthusiastic about Zevran's presence, especially when I found myself alone with him shortly before the ceremony.

"Are you sure you want to do this, my friend? Daniella is beautiful, yes, but she is the only woman you have ever...experienced. There is a bounty of beautiful women out there who would love to entertain the king." He gave me a lascivious wink.

"Oh, I am quite sure, _friend_. Believe me, if you had ever gotten your way with Daniella, you would never have sought the company of another, either." I gave a mock sigh of sympathy. "But sadly, you will never know what it is like to _entertain_ her, now, will you?"

I swore there was a gleam of respect in the elf's eyes as he said, "No, I suppose not. One more regret in a life full of them." He sighed theatrically, and then extended his hand to me. "In truth, you are a very lucky man. I wish you both much happiness."

His sincerity caught me off guard. "Thank you, Zevran," I replied, as I extended my own hand to his.

"All right, enough of this sentimentality. Let's get on with this, shall we?"

And so we did. My bride wore a gorgeous gown of the deepest green that perfectly matched her eyes. It tucked in tight under the bodice, showcasing her growing bosom to spectacular effect, and flowed loosely around her, hiding any hint of her swollen abdomen. Leliana had woven Andastre's Grace into the loose waves of her hair. I don't think she had ever looked more beautiful.

We grinned like fools throughout the ceremony, reciting lines that I could not recall afterward. All I remembered was, "I now pronounce you husband and wife…King and Queen Theirin of Ferelden." And the kiss, of course…our first kiss as husband and wife, while the small gathering clapped and cheered enthusiastically.

The following months were blissful. My bride was in good health, and her "appetites" continued to expand, along with her waistline. She would wake me with lustful kisses in the morning. She would be lurking in the hallway, waiting for me to conclude various meetings and appointments, only to drag me off to our bedchamber. There were many meals and conversations left incomplete, interrupted by our baser desires. And, of course, we spent every evening coming up with new ways to enjoy our "marital duty."

We both heard the whispers and snickers from the household staff, but it only amused us. Let them talk – we were officially man and wife, king and queen, and there was nothing that could quell our desire for each other.

Or so I had thought.

* * *

My daughter's cries are rising to a crescendo, and I know I have to go to her before she wakes the entire household. With a sigh, I toss the pillow aside and climb out of bed, pulling on clothes as I go.

I stumble, bleary-eyed, down the hall to the nursery. The nanny is holding the baby in her arms, frantically pacing back and forth, simultaneously singing to her and trying to hush her. She startles as I enter the room.

"Your Highness!" she says breathlessly, barely audible over the baby's howling. "I'm so sorry. I have tried everything, but she just won't stop crying!"

"It's not your fault," I assure her. This is our third nanny in nine months. If this continues, we might soon be on our way to number four. "Give her to me." I hold out my arms.

She places the child gently in my arms, and as soon as she does, my daughter's cries start to diminish. Her face is red and splotchy; fat tears cling to her eyelashes. She makes a sound between a hiccup and a sob.

"Must you always be so dramatic?" I ask her, softly. "You're so very like your mother, although she is loathe to admit it."

Alia Eleanor wraps her long, thin fingers around my larger index finger and gazes up at me with emerald green eyes. Her breathing is calming into little snuffles, but her eyes still glisten with unshed tears. She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and I recall clearly the day I met her for the first time.

* * *

During the last weeks of her pregnancy, Daniella's temper grew shorter as her belly grew larger. I knew that part of it was the inability to do the physical activity that always managed to keep her sane. Now, she grew winded climbing the stairs. Her back and feet ached. Her moods were unpredictable. We would be eating dinner and laughing together, and then, the next thing I knew, she would be running from the room, in tears.

I never seemed to be able to say the right thing, so I tried to say as little as possible. Sometimes she would crave affection; other times, she would swat my hands away when I reached for her. For the first time since I became king, I was actually looking for official tasks to carry out to keep me away from my volatile wife.

One night I entered our room to find her naked before the mirror, gazing at herself critically.

"I'm as big as an ogre, Alistair!"

I could think of no conceivable safe response to that, so I remained silent.

She turned to me. "I have not had much experience with pregnancy, but I don't think I'm supposed to be this huge. Maybe there really is a hurlock in there, after all!"

The vulnerability in her eyes touched my heart and overrode my fear. I went to her, and took her in my arms. She allowed it, leaning in to me, accepting the comfort I was offering.

"I'm sure our child is not an ogre, nor a hurlock. It may look like one, if it takes after me," that elicited the chuckle I was hoping for "but I'm sure the baby is perfectly normal and healthy."

"I'm just tired of being so…awkward. I waddle rather than walk. I can't get comfortable, no matter what I do. I can't do much besides sit and wait." She sighed. "I'm ready for him or her to come out."

"I know." I kissed the top of her head. "I'm sure it will be any day now."

But I was wrong. The days stretched on. My wife grew even crankier, and I started having nightmares. In them, Dani gave birth to various manners of monstrous creatures, and then died in the birthing, leaving me to raise the abominations on my own. I always awoke gasping, covered in sweat. I knew, rationally, that the dreams were a manifestation of Dani's fears about the child growing within her, and my own fears stemming from my mother's death in childbirth, but knowing that did not stop the dreams from recurring almost nightly.

Finally, one morning as we stumbled down the stairs in our bedclothes, groggy with lack of sleep, Dani gasped and grabbed my arm.

"Are you ok?"

She shook her head. "No. Ohhhh!" The last was a long cry as she grabbed her belly with her free hand.

"What? What is it?"

Just then, water gushed from between her bare legs. She looked at me, wide-eyed and frightened. "I think it's time - the baby's coming!"

I gathered my wits. "Come on. Let's get you back upstairs. I'll call for the midwife."

Her grip on my hand was steel as we climbed back up the few steps we had descended. "Don't leave me, Alistair!"

"I won't leave you. I promise."

When we reached the top floor, I spotted one of the maids. "You! Find the midwife!" She had been staying in the castle for the past few weeks, waiting for this moment.

The maid stood frozen, gawking.

"Now!" I thundered, and she squeaked out, "Yes, Your Highness!" as she scurried away. I could only hope she would do as I asked.

I guided Daniella back to our room and settled her on the bed. She moaned as another contraction seized her, squeezing my hand so tightly I felt the bones grinding together.

"It's okay. Try to breathe. Can I do anything?" I asked, helplessly.

Thankfully, the door to our room burst open and the midwife bustled in, followed by several maids.

"You!" She pointed at me. "Out!"

"But…" I protested weakly.

Daniella still gripped my hand. "I want him to stay," she told the midwife.

"Out!" the midwife ordered again, and as Dani reluctantly relinquished my hand, I gave her a peck on the cheek and fled, gratefully, breaking the promise I had made to her just minutes before.

Of course, I didn't go far. I paced the hallway outside of our room as my wife's cries of pain grew in volume and duration. I found it very distressing. Dani was a Grey Warden and the Hero of Ferelden. She had been stabbed, pierced by arrows, bitten by wild animals and eaten my cooking, and I had never heard her scream like that. What was this demon child doing to her?

The maids bustled in and out with water, clean sheets and towels, but they told me nothing. When I asked, they just shrugged and continued on their errands. The minutes crawled by. Teagan appeared. Someone must have gone to his nearby estate to inform him of the news.

"How are you doing?" he asked, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder as another scream pierced the hallway.

"Not so good," I told him, a bit guiltily. However I was feeling, it was nothing compared to the suffering my bride was going through.

"Try not to worry overly much. This is normal, or so I'm told." He shrugged. "I have never experienced it, myself. But Eamon spoke to me about Connor's birth."

"It's taking so long!" I informed him, just as we both heard a high-pitched wail come from the bedroom. We glanced at each other, and a grin started to form on my face.

I grabbed one of the maids as she rushed out. "Is it over? Can we go in now?"

She looked at me, harried. "Not yet. The midwife says there is another babe yet to come."

I heard Teagan's voice from far away as the maid hurried away and my vision went dark around the edges.

* * *

"You can go to bed. I'll stay with her for now," I tell the nanny as Alia finally quiets.

"Are you sure? I don't mind staying with her." She wrings her hands, nervously.

I give her a small smile. "No reason for both of us to be awake."

"Yes, Your Highness." She gives a small curtsy, and leaves quickly. I hope she isn't going to her room to pack her things.

"Do you have to chase all of the nannies off?" I scold my daughter, who gazes up at me, innocently. "And what if you had woken your brother?"

I know there isn't much chance of that. Duncan Ferguson learned very quickly to sleep through his sister's hysterics. Just the same, I walk over to his crib to check on him. Sure enough, he is sleeping peacefully, blanket gripped in one hand and sucking on the other thumb.

Alia had been the first one born that day. Her mother says she probably shoved her brother aside in order to be the first to arrive. True to his nature, Duncan had followed quickly behind, without any complications.

Once I had regained my wits enough to check on my wife and greet my children, Daniella had asked if I wanted to name my son after myself. I demurred. It was going to be difficult enough for him to be his own man growing up as the heir to the throne. I wanted to make sure he didn't feel like he spent his whole life in my shadow.

With very little debate, we agreed – our son was named after my friend and mentor, Duncan, and Daniella's brother, Fergus. Our daughter was my namesake, and had her maternal grandmother's name for her middle name.

I brush back the hair from Duncan's brow, but he doesn't stir. My son is a little towhead with amber eyes. He is a happy child, always smiling, with an infectious laugh. He loves people, and expects them to love him back. In most cases, his faith is rewarded. Every parent wishes for a child like him.

My daughter was born blonde, as well, but her hair is already darkening. I know that she will have her mother's auburn locks, eventually, to go with those emerald eyes. She is impatient and demanding, and she will not be denied. I do not begrudge her that. Sometimes I wish there were a little less crying, and a lot more sleeping, but I don't regret a moment of the time I spend with her. Soon enough, I will be employing the royal guards to chase away potential suitors. For now, she is daddy's little girl.

Alia gives a little squeal, and Duncan's eyes open. He blinks up at me, sleepily, and then stretches his arms out. I balance my daughter against one hip while I try to lift my son with the other arm. It's a juggling act I have been getting better at since Daniella left.

I hold one child in each arm and tell them, "This would be much easier if your mother were here." They both gaze at me solemnly.

I carry them over to the rocking chair and try to settle myself into it while still clutching a baby in each arm. "Daddy has a very important job, you know, and it makes it very difficult for him when he doesn't get any sleep." Duncan laughs, as if this is very amusing, and says, "Thfffft." Drool runs down his chin. My daughter ignores me.

They are definitely more like us than Daniella and I care to admit.

I would sing to them, but the one time I tried to sing her a lullaby, my daughter reacted as if she was being murdered. My wife had arrived on the run – it was loud screaming, even by our vociferous daughter's standards.

"What did you do to her?" she demanded.

"Nothing! I was singing her a lullaby!"

Once Daniella realized that I was telling the truth, and our child was unharmed, she began laughing hysterically.

"It's not that funny," I informed her, crossly.

After she departed, and Alia finally quieted, I said, "I may not be your Aunt Leliana, but my voice isn't **that** bad!" The reproachful look I got was enough to discourage me from further attempts to serenade her.

I rock gently in the chair, and they both settle their heads against my shoulders. Duncan reaches out for his sister, and I tense…this often results in pinches, or pulled hair, although it's not entirely clear if it's intentional or just lack of dexterity on his part. But this time he loops his pinky with hers, and the sight of it is so sweet, it melts my heart. I wish I could share it with their mother.

* * *

It was harder for Daniella to leave than she thought it was going to be. She'd been away from the wardens for almost a year now. She'd made quick trips to Vigil's Keep, but no extended stays. When word came from Seneschal Varel that her presence was required, and not just for a couple of days, she flew into a flurry of self-doubt and recriminations.

"Maybe I should just resign," she told me as we prepared for bed that night.

"Is that really what you want to do?"

"No. But I feel so guilty for leaving you and the children. I imagined I would just pop them out, and go on about my life." She laughed at her self-delusion. "I had no idea what being a mother was like."

I walked over to where she was standing, brushing her hair in front of the mirror. I wrapped my arms around her from behind. Our reflections looked back at us.

"No, but now you do. And you are a good mother…a wonderful mother."

She gave a self-deprecating laugh.

"Don't do that!" I admonished her. "It's true. And if you resign from the wardens, you will regret it. You've rebuilt the order from scratch. Being Commander is more than what you do…it's who you are."

I turned her around to face me. "It might make sense if we were planning on having a large family, and you would be unable to carry out your duties for extended periods of time. But there will be no more babies for us. It's difficult now, but it will grow easier as the children get older. We'll be fine without you. We'll miss you terribly, but we'll survive."

"But look at me!" She takes a step back and indicates her nightgown-clad body with a flourish. "I'm completely out of shape! I have hardly done any sparring since the children were born. How am I going to set an example for my men?"

"Darling, we aren't still fighting the blight, you know. They don't expect you to train the men yourself. You're their leader – they need your wisdom and guidance."

I brushed back a lock of hair; gave her a grin. "Besides, you gave birth to two children…at one time!" I exaggerated this to make it sound like quite an amazing feat…though in my mind, it really was. "How many of those pansy recruits do you think could have done **that**?"

She laughed. It was our daughter's laugh; or rather, our daughter has her mother's laugh. I will never, in all my days, grow tired of trying to elicit it from either one of them.

"Not too many," she admits.

"See? There you go." I took a step closer and wrapped my arms around her. "Besides, I think you are in fine shape." I ran my hands along her sides, over her rear. "Yes, you feel quite good to me. In fact, perhaps I shall leave the children with the nanny, or Leliana, and come visit you for a few days. I have rather fond memories of your barracks at the Keep."

She laughed again. "Ah, yes. Uninterrupted sex. What was that like, again?"

"Perhaps I can refresh your memory," I said, as I leaned over and kissed her exposed neck.

We did make love that night, but it was quick and furtive, as it had frequently been since the children had come along – like we were criminals afraid of being caught. Anticipation of being interrupted by a plaintive cry did nothing to enhance the mood. I vowed to myself that I would do whatever it took to join my wife at Vigil's Keep for a few days (and nights.)

Daniella left the next morning. She shed a few tears as she hugged and kissed us all goodbye. I saw doubt in her eyes, but I saw relief and excitement, as well. This was going to be good for her. She needed to be someone other than "mommy" for a while. Warden Commander would fit the bill. And if anything, being a mother had made her even better at issuing orders.

I was going to give her a few more days and then ride on up there and give her the chance to be "wife" and "lover", as well. I hoped she was looking forward to it as much as I was.

* * *

Both babies are nodding off. Duncan is snoring lightly against my chest. I lay him back in his crib and cover him with the blanket. I walk Alia over to her crib, and ever so gently, lay her down as well. I hold my breath, but she doesn't wake. I tiptoe to the door. I plan to leave it open...and mine, as well...so I will hear them if they wake again.

"Good night, little ones," I whisper. "Daddy loves you. Always, and forever."


End file.
